


Annabel Lee

by driverfever



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Awkward Ben Solo, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Edgar Allan Poe References, English class, F/M, I meant for this to be more of a romcom and then it just got angsty and soft, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Poetry, even softer, previous relationships mentioned briefly, so soft, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29256597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driverfever/pseuds/driverfever
Summary: Rey keeps finding these ... notes in her locker. She doesn't quite get them. They seem like love notes, but she doesn't know who they could be from. Meanwhile she's paired up with Ben Solo (who hates her despite her gigantic crush on him) for this English assignment. Who knows how THIS will go.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 31
Kudos: 96
Collections: To Find Your Kiss: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange





	Annabel Lee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myownlittleinfinity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myownlittleinfinity/gifts).



> Prompt: Rey keeps finding these ... notes in her locker. She doesn't quite get them. They seem like love notes, but she doesn't know who they could be from. Meanwhile she's paired up with Ben Solo (who hates her despite her gigantic crush on him) for this English assignment. Who knows how THIS will go.
> 
> I started intending for this to have some comedic relief and then the story in my head took over and it's all angst and miscommunication and softness, and Ben's notes were never not romantic because my brain refused to do anything else. You don't need to know anything about Edgar Allan Poe to read this, all references/info needed are already in the story. I will make a quick note on the title: if you look up that particular poem, the theme is actually more along the lines of death, but I ignored this part for creativity's sake and my references to that poem are purely for the lines from it that I put in the story. No death implied :) Hope you enjoy!

The dark green paint of the locker door was as it had always been: chipped, worn around the lock where hundreds of hands had worn it away. It was nothing extraordinary, blending in with dozens of locker doors the same shade, the same tired wear covering their edges. And yet Rey stood, staring at it as if it held all the answers to the universe within. 

It did not, in fact, hold all the answers to the universe, but she knew what it did hold. Another half-sheet of thick, textured paper, the kind one might find in a stationery shop. One edge torn, neatly, as though the author of the words upon it had creased it and carefully torn it along the edge of a table. The ink upon the paper, too, not the result of the average ballpoint or gel pen. No, the sweeping lines, the varying thicknesses of the curved letters, they were traced upon the page with a calligraphy pen.

The sheet of paper would be folded twice, allowing it to be slipped through the thin vents on her locker door. It would be signed with the same pseudonym as always, and would hold a few lines of poetry from one Edgar Allan Poe at the top of the page. The rest would be occupied by the charming, sometimes awkward, thoughts and observations of the note's author. She lifted her hand to open her locker, sure beyond any doubt that a sheet of paper would be there. After all, it was Monday.

…...........................

The first note had appeared as Rey started the second week of her senior year. It had been short and to the point.

_Rey:_

_“For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,  
Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,  
Shall find her own sweet name, that nestling lies  
Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.”_

There had been no other words, save the name signed at the bottom of the page. _Kylo._

That night had found Rey looking up the lines of poetry. The discovery of Edgar Allan Poe's riddle led her to study the page at length, looking for some clue as to who had sent it. She wondered if he planned to reveal himself. 

The note stayed firmly ensconced in the back of her mind all week as she tried to discreetly guess who might have sent it. Outside of her small group of friends, Rose, Kaydel, Finn, and Snap, she didn't interact with many people at school. She only had one ex-boyfriend, Vic, who had now graduated, so the note confounded her. She slowly gave up as the week wore on, eventually trying to put it out of her mind. Until Monday.

_Rey:_

_“And, when the friendly sunshine smil'd,  
And she would mark the opening skies,  
I saw no Heaven – but in her eyes”_

_You always make me smile._

_Kylo_

This time she didn't wait until she was home to look up the lines. Instead, she looked them up on her phone at lunch, smiling at the search results leading her to Edgar Allan Poe again. Whoever was leaving her these notes was clearly a fan. She played with the edges of the paper, the soft imperfect cuts telling her this paper was handmade, bought specifically for the purpose of the calligraphy the author appeared to be so adept at. 

She'd held a calligraphy pen once in her life, during freshman year art when one of their assignments centered on basic calligraphy techniques. She'd quickly grown frustrated with the instrument, the ink splatters every time she tried to start a letter wearing on her patience. After finishing the assignment which was unenthusiastically accepted by her teacher, she swore to never touch one of the things again. She wondered how long this person had been practicing. 

Both notes lived in the back of her English folder, laid flat to smooth the creases from where they were folded to fit into her locker. She suspected the author of them had been loathe to fold the paper. 

The two notes were joined by a third the following Monday.

_”Rey:_

_Ah, less – less bright  
The stars of the night  
Than the eyes of the radiant girl!”_

_You light up everyone around you._

_Kylo_

Every Monday, a new note appeared, bearing a few lines of poetry and a small note from the author of the note itself. The tone varied, sometimes admiring, sometimes wistful, sometimes... sometimes she wanted to know who the author was so she could ease the burden of the loneliness he spilt onto the page. 

But there were never any hints. No references to how he knew her or when he saw her. No changes to the pseudonym or variations to the writing style. She wondered if it was better this way. To never know the face of her admirer, to never feel the disappointment of him not living up to her imagination. Yes, she decided. Anonymity was a good thing. Still, she wondered.

…...........................

Rey finally opened her locker after staring at it for what had to be five minutes. Sure enough, the folded sheet of paper lay gently atop the books she'd left at school over winter vacation. As usual, it had already started to unfold and relax, a sign that whoever left it had not folded it until he needed to do so. 

_Rey:_

_“From childhood's hour I have not been  
As others were – I have not seen  
As others saw – I could not bring  
My passions from a common spring -  
From the same source I have not taken  
My sorrow – I could not awaken  
My heart to joy at the same tone -  
And all I lov'd – I lov'd alone”_

_But you see me._

_Kylo_

Rey gently placed the note back in her locker, afraid of tearing it with her shaking hands. This was the first one whose verse did not extoll her virtues or imply romantic feelings. And yet, it was this one that struck Rey the most, the personal nature of the lines burrowing into her chest and settling in her heart. _But you see me._ She felt tears beginning to well in the back of her eyes. Who _was_ he?

The bell rang, startling Rey and causing her to snatch her bag off the floor and slam her locker closed. She was late to English. Wonderful. 

She sprinted down the hall, skidding into the room to see students in the class pairing off with alacrity. She glanced towards her teacher, who gave her a raised eyebrow and told her to sit. Slinking to her seat, she noted that Kaydel and Finn had already paired off. _Traitors._ In fact, everyone in the class had paired off except one.

Her heart raced, and she wasn't sure if it was nerves, excitement, or dread that caused it as she stared at the glaring features of Ben Solo. Probably a combination of all three. It appeared he had no intention of moving, so she made her way to the desk next to his, sinking into it with her eyes in her lap. 

Ben Solo was an enigma. Tall and broad-shouldered, he looked like he should be a star on the football team, but Ben preferred to keep to himself, not participating in any clubs or sports. He didn't even seem to have friends at school, hunching his shoulders and hurrying through the halls to his classes and sitting by himself at lunch, daring anyone to approach him. 

Rey occasionally interacted with him, sharing a few words in class or nodding in recognition when they passed in the halls. Ben never reciprocated, which was too bad, since Rey was completely in love with him. 

She had been since freshman year, when she first caught the electric gaze of the angry boy sitting in the back of her history class. Ben had spent the entire year challenging their teacher on the information in their book, scornfully explaining that there were far more accurate sources available. He'd seemed to get on everyone's nerves, but Rey couldn't look away. By the end of the year, she looked forward to the class every day just to hear Ben go head-to-head with the teacher on whatever they happened to be covering that day. He had opinions on every subject from the involvement of the United States in the Vietnam War to the British rule of India to the effects of the Crusades on the Middle East. 

Not everyone was as enthused as Rey, and Ben seemed to make enemies left and right. No one wanted to partner with him in classes, despite his clear capabilities, and they muttered under their breath every time he raised his hand with a scowl etched upon his face. He didn't seem to notice that when everyone else rolled their eyes, Rey bit her lip and tried to contain her blush. He didn't notice the way she always sat at the lunch table next to his while everyone else gave him a 20 foot berth. 

Sophomore year was no different, with Ben tearing into their European History teacher at least weekly, the rest of the class sighing and muttering every time. Rey tried not to chew on the end of her pencil too obviously while she listened to him rant. She tried not to blush when she caught his eye and nodded in the halls. Ben never acknowledged her.

It shouldn't have surprised her so much, then, when he showed up to the Spring Formal with a girl who didn't go to their school. It shouldn't have caused a knot in her throat and tears in her eyes when he and the tall blonde slow danced four times. It shouldn't have pushed her to race to the bathroom and call for a ride home when he grinned and kissed the girl on the cheek. After all, Ben Solo had never looked her way.

When a boy from her science class asked her out a week later, she said yes. Vic was nice enough, and hot, and she was determined to get over Ben Solo. The summer fling was exactly what Rey thought she needed to move on. By the time her junior year began, she'd broken things off with Vic, unwilling to let him be the one to end it. Clearly it would have to end, if not now then next summer when he left for college. If there was one thing Rey was determined not to do, it was let someone leave her again. 

So she began her junior year newly single and fresh off a summer fling that had her truly feeling like the upperclassman she was. And then Ben walked into the same English and history and science and Greek classes as her, and her heart simultaneously skipped a beat and plummeted to her stomach. She was not, in fact, over him. And now it hurt more than ever.

It wasn't until Homecoming that Rey's broken heart started to mend itself. She watched Ben hide himself in the corner of the gymnasium, hands shoved deep in his pockets. By himself. She wondered why he even came. 

Her crush on her solemn classmate continued to grow, and she wasn't even sure it was a crush anymore. Could she be in love with him without even really knowing him? She decided not to think on it too long. 

It turned out that Ben had _opinions_ on US History. It also turned out that their teacher was less than confident in his ability to rein in Ben. Rey tried not to laugh every day as half the period was taken up by Ben picking apart the curriculum and giving the teacher reading recommendations.

She wondered why he was so opinionated on their history classes but no others. He paid close attention in chemistry, taking diligent notes and quietly answering when called on, but he never volunteered additional information and he deferred to partners in lab classes. In English and Greek, he was even quieter, shrinking in his seat and staring at his desk when students were called on to read or translate and avoiding eye contact at all costs during discussions of current books. 

By the end of their junior year, Rey was sure she was in love with him.

…...........................

Rey sat still in the seat next to Ben's, swallowing nervously as she wondered what she'd gotten herself into. If only she'd left that note for later, she'd know what was going on and would most likely have a different partner for whatever it was.

Their teacher passed out packets and Rey's heart thudded when she saw the first page. It was a poetry research project. For the entire spring term. She smiled. 

“Each pair will choose a poet to research. There are multiple assignments during the spring, and everything will be related to the poet you choose, so choose carefully. Pairs cannot research the same poet, so as soon as you know who you would like please come tell me so I can record it.”

Rey turned to Ben immediately. 

“Edgar Allan Poe.” Every ounce of blood drained from Ben's face. Rey watched in fascination as he gulped and tried to pull himself together. “You don't like him? What, did he get some historical fact wrong in one of his poems?” She said it in a teasing manner, grinning a little, but Ben looked more uncomfortable by the second and blushed lightly at her words. 

“Sorry, I'm not making fun of you. Who would you prefer?” She kept her breathing steady, curious beyond belief to hear who Ben would want. She knew so little about him. 

“Poe's fine.” The grunted words half disappointed Rey and half relieved her. She immediately jumped up to go claim their poet, surprised to see she was the first one. The teacher smiled brightly.

“I can't _wait_ to see what you two come up with.” Rey thanked her, confused, and walked back to her new seat next to Ben. Ben seemed so unenthusiastic in class, she couldn't imagine why their teacher would be so optimistic about their project. She wondered what kind of work Ben turned in.

“So we should go through the assignments and figure out how we'll split the work and when we need to have everything done by. Sound good?” Ben jerked his head down in what Rey guessed was supposed to be a nod. She sighed. She hoped she'd finally get to know him a little better through this project, but it might just end up being even more painful for her. She really needed to get her feelings under control.

“So there's a biography... analysis of five poems... an art assignment to go along with one poem, huh, that's a little different... a personal commentary of a poem, what the heck is that?... and then we have to write a poem in a style similar to the poet. Okay, we can split this I think. What ones do you want to do?”

He shrugged, studying the paper in front of him.

“I'll do whatever you don't want, I don't care.” Rey sighed. She hoped he'd at least get his work done.

“Well, the first thing due is the biography, maybe we can just split that down the middle. We can make up an outline and each take half the sections.”

“Sure.” He'd yet to look at her. 

The bell rang at that moment, and Rey had never seen Ben move so fast. He grabbed his books and raced from the room, his long legs carrying him out before anyone else had so much as gathered their things. She bit her lip to keep herself together. He absolutely hated her.

…...........................

To Rey's surprise, Ben's half of the biography they turned in a month later was good. Really good. They got a 98 on the assignment. It shattered her heart a little. It wasn't the subject he hated. Just her.

At least she had her notes. Every Monday, there was a new one, without exception. The tone had changed since Christmas, the verses reflecting more personal thoughts now. Gone were the notes admiring her eyes, her spirit. Now the author was baring his soul.

_Rey:_

__

__

_“Yes! Tho that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,  
'Twere better than the cold reality  
Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,  
And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,  
A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.”_

_You take away the cold, and you add the color to my sight._

_Kylo_

Rey gasped at the note on the bottom. The shy, awkwardly charming observations of the fall had been fully replaced at this point by these gut-wrenching admissions. The curving, swirling lines of ink on this one were not quite as crisp as usual, the black ink jumping a fraction to the side in the midst of a letter, as if the author's hand trembled as he drew his heart upon the paper now clutched in her hands. 

She wanted to return it, to take his offering and stitch it back into his chest. She stayed after school to visit the art room.

The school's art teacher raised an eyebrow at Rey's presence in her room, obviously remembering the notable lack of artistic talent Rey possessed. She waited, eyebrow still raised.

“I need to use a calligraphy pen.” The eyebrow raised higher. Rey blushed. 

Without ever speaking a word, the teacher retrieved a pen and an inkwell for Rey, setting her up with some scratch paper at a table in the back of the room. Rey practiced for an hour, pulling out the latest note to study every time she felt compelled to throw the inkwell out the nearest window.

She returned every afternoon that week, working on her technique, trying not to spill too much ink. By Friday, she realized her shaky abilities would have to do, and she asked for a nice sheet of paper from the teacher. She tore it in half, took a breath, and began.

_Kylo:_

_You're not alone._

_Rey_

She wondered if it was too simple, if she should have included more. She wondered if she should be bothering at all.

She folded the paper neatly into a small square and carefully transcribed the name “Kylo” onto the outside as well. Taking a piece of tape from the dispenser at the front of the room, Rey left and returned to her locker where she worked out how best to leave the note.

She decided on sliding it partway through the vent to make sure Kylo would see it, using the tape to keep it from falling back out. Satisfied, she stepped back to make sure it was clearly visible and left.

Monday morning, the note she'd left was gone. Heart racing, she opened her locker to find... nothing. Her heart dropped. For the first time all year, there was no note. She bit back the lump in her throat, determined to not care. She didn't even know who he'd been.

It was clear she'd failed miserably in not caring then, when on Tuesday morning her heart leapt in her throat and she grinned at the sight of a note waiting in her locker.

_Rey:_

_“For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams  
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;  
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes  
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee”_

_Neither are you._

_Kylo_

Rey had no memory of what happened the rest of the day. The note was tucked into the same folder as all the rest, flattened now to fix the creases, but she felt its proximity like a flame licking at her skin. 

The high from the note didn't help her in English class though, where she was despairing every day about spending the rest of the semester working with Ben. He utter lack of interest in her cut through her like a knife, and she could barely bear to look at him, let alone work with him. And now they had to work on the analysis of five poems. 

They (she) decided to meet in the library after school to start on the assignment and figure out how to divide it. Rey arrived a few minutes after the dismissal bell to find Ben already waiting, arms crossed, staring at the table he was sat in front of. She sighed and squared her shoulders.

“We can either pick five poems together and then decide who wants to do what or each pick a few on our own and just make sure they're different.” 

“You can decide. I'll do whatever.” Rey's frustration came roaring to the surface.

“Ben! This is supposed to be a partner project. You have to give _some_ input here, I'm sick of this.” The words were hissed at him, her frustration not outweighing her desire not to get thrown out of the library. He glanced up at her, swallowing. She watched, fascinated, as his eyes widened and a blush crept up his neck. She tried again.

“The paper was really good. Clearly you can do the work just fine. Why don't you care at all?” He looked back down and she tried not to scream.

“I do. I just... don't mind any of it. I'll do whatever you don't want.” He raised one shoulder in a shrug, looking more uncomfortable by the second. Rey took a step back, surprised by his words. 

“Okay. Well, here's the ones I want to pick from.” She set down in front of him a list of every poem she'd received a verse from in her notes.

_A Valentine  
Tamerlane  
Eulalie  
Eldorado  
The River  
Al Aaraaf  
Lenore  
A Dream  
For Annie  
Romance  
Dreamland  
Evening Star  
Alone  
The City in the Sea  
Imitation  
Dreams  
Annabel Lee_

If she thought moving on and focusing on the assignment would help mitigate his discomfort, she was wildly wrong. The blush on his neck and creeping up onto his face deepened, and he shifted in the chair he was sitting in.

“You pick.” His hoarse voice was abrupt in its instructions. Frowning slightly, she circled three choices: A Valentine, Alone, and Dreams. The first one, and the two that had affected her the most. He watched her closely, then picked up a pen and circled Eulalie, Annabel Lee, and Al Aaraaf.

“You don't need to do a third, we only have to do five-” He cut her off.

“'S fine. Fair this way.” He picked up his bag and left the library, Rey's gaze trailing after him. It occurred to her that Ben had readily picked three off her list, seeming to be familiar with the names before him. She'd thought Ben to be confusing before. Now, she didn't even know where to begin. 

…...........................

“We need to meet to figure out the rest of the schedule.” Ben grunted in response to Rey's words. She was having a hard time being upset with his behavior from a classwork point of view, seeing as they'd gotten a 96 on their analysis assignment. The four points off had been on the poems Rey had done. Ben's half had been flawless. 

“Can you meet this afternoon?” He grunted again. She supposed that was as close to a “yes” as she was going to get. While she couldn't find fault with his work in class, his demeanor still hurt. Her feelings had not waned. 

She met him in the library after school ended and pulled out a notebook. The last three assignments would all be harder to work on individually, so they needed some sort of plan. 

“I'm not sure what we should do for the art one, I get the basic premise but I'm absolutely horrible at anything artistic.” She thought she saw Ben bite back a grin at her words. _Please,_ she thought, _I can't take it if he laughs at me_. He didn't laugh. He just combed his hand through his hair, causing her heart to stutter.

“I can do the art one. If you want.” She tried not to let her shock show through.

“Are you sure? That's a lot...” 

“It's fine.” 

“I'll do the commentary thing. The next one. And we can split the last one.”

“Sure.”

He got up and left.

Rey had no idea what to make of what had just happened. He'd offered, completely on his own, to do the entire next assignment. And yet, he'd still barely spoken ten words to her. She wondered if he actually liked the subject and the project, and it was just her that ruined it for him. She raced home, relieved that she made it to her room before the tears came.

…...........................

“So? Can I see it?” They were sitting in English class, and the art assignment was due. Ben had assured her it was complete and ready to go. But she still hadn't laid eyes on it.

“No.” The word surprised her, and she blinked in response. Surely he had to show it to her. It was their assignment, after all. 

“But-”

“I already turned it in.”

“Then I'll ask Ms. Maz-”

“ _Don't_.” She blinked again, confused. She wondered if he was self-conscious about the work. She wondered if he just hated her that much.

“Okay.” His shoulders dropped from their tense hold at her acquiescence, and her heart dropped with them.

…...........................

_Rey:_

_“You call it hope – that fire of fire!  
It is but agony of desire:  
If I can hope – O God! I can -  
Its fount is holier – more divine -  
I would not call thee fool, old man  
But such is not a gift of thine”_

_You are the source of my hope in all things._

_Kylo_

Rey smiled at the words, noting that the additions by Kylo at the bottom always seemed to be a little more awkward, a little more fumbling, when directly admiring her. He seemed well-versed in narrating his own loneliness. The thought pulled the smile from her face.

The commentary Rey had done for English was due today, and then they had to start on the final assignment. Ben's art assignment had received a grade of 98. She still hadn't seen it. 

The commentary turned out to be a personal reflection on the way a poem made her feel, a contrast to the analyses the second assignment had required. Rey had chosen “Alone,” wanting to let out her feelings about the piece and the context in which she had been introduced to it. She had close to 30 notes now from Kylo, and yet that one from January that had included the lines from “Alone” still stuck with her the most. 

They met in the library after school to talk about the last assignment: writing their own poem in the style of Edgar Allan Poe. Rey tried not to be disappointed that Ben hadn't even asked to see her assignment. She wasn't sure why she'd thought he might be interested. 

“Okay, so I think we should start with a subject and theme. That's what Poe is most known for. And then we can just make sure to write it in the style of his time. But I think the most important part is subject matter.”

“Sure.”

“We're gonna need to really work together on this one so if you could please participate?” He jerked up in his seat and looked at her.

“Death. Love. Strangeness and loneliness.” 

“What?”

“His main themes.”

“Right.” Rey became aware that she was now the one giving single word answers, but to her credit, she was shocked Ben had actually listened and cooperated. 

“I did the last assignment on 'Alone.' So maybe we should go a different direction this time.” She heard a sharp intake of breath and looked up to see Ben staring at her.

“Love.” 

“What?”

“We should write about love.” Yeah, that's what she thought he'd said. _Fuck._ This was going to be hell.

“Okay.” 

“Okay.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Ben broke eye contact, looking down at his books on the table. 

“I gotta go.” Before she could get a word in, he jumped to his feet and left, haphazardly grabbing his books on the way. A scrap of paper fell out of one and fluttered to the ground.

“Ben! You dropped...” She trailed off, realizing he was already out the door. She leaned down and picked up the scrap of paper. 

_Kylo:_

_You're not alone._

_Rey_

…...........................

Rey laid in her bed that afternoon, clutching the note she'd written months ago between her fingers. The note Ben had dropped. She couldn't wrap her mind around it. He couldn't be Kylo. There was no way. Her heart sped up at the thought anyway. She couldn't sit still.

No. It couldn't be him. Ben _hated_ her. Maybe he knew Kylo. Maybe Kylo had lost it and Ben found it. Maybe Kylo had thrown it out... she felt her thoughts spiraling and jumped up. She felt like a total stalker as she looked up his address online, grateful that Solo was such an uncommon name. She had to talk to him _now_.

A short, lightly graying woman answered the door who Rey assumed must be his mother. She shyly asked if Ben was home, hoping his mother wouldn't ask too many questions. 

“Yes, I'll get him for you. What's your name?” 

“Rey.” The woman's face lit up. Her fingers clutched the door frame as she beamed.

“You're Rey... I'm Leia, it's so wonderful to meet you.” The recognition in her voice confused Rey. Ben wouldn't talk to his parents about her. He hated her. She stepped inside at his mother's – Leia's - invitation, waiting in the large entrance hall while she called up the stairs for Ben.

He appeared a moment later on the landing, freezing when he saw her. He'd changed since this afternoon, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a thin cotton t-shirt. His hair was a mess, as if he'd been constantly running his hand through it all afternoon. She swallowed heavily.

He slowly came down the stairs and turned into another doorway, nodding over his shoulder at her. She followed, too nervous to be annoyed with his wordless instructions.

She followed him into what turned out to be a living room, a large fireplace set into one wall and a multitude of leather furniture all focused toward the fireplace. Ben stood in the middle, hands clenched into fists at his side. She reached into her pocket and slowly slid out the note.

Ben's eyes immediately tracked the movement, catching sight of the paper clutched tightly in her hand. His face went white as a sheet and he looked for a moment like he might pass out. 

“Where did you get this?” She meant to be demanding in her question, but the words came out quiet, breathless. He backed up and collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. 

“Ben.” His shoulders stiffened at her voice, but he still didn't lift his head. 

“You left it for me. On your locker.” It took her a second to decipher the muffled words, but when she did, the world spun on its axis. She sat down heavily on the other end of the couch. “I thought I lost it today.”

“You... you're Kylo.” He nodded awkwardly, still unwilling to pick up his head. She sat and breathed for a minute while her entire world readjusted itself. 

“But you hate me.” At this, he lifted his head to look up at her, dropping his hands into his lap. 

“ _No._ Never. I just... have no idea how to talk to you.” He let out a harsh laugh and Rey unconsciously slid over until she was next to him on the couch. “You're the first person who's ever looked at me and _seen_ me. And that sounds crazy because we barely ever talk, but you're the first one who's ever _tried_.” 

Rey tried to process his words, but there was a loud buzzing in her ears. 

“But the girl you dated...” He laughed again, this time softer.

“Phasma. Yeah, she wasn't too interested in anything more than, well, something casual.” Something hot twisted in her gut at the thought of him with the blonde girl but she reminded herself that it was long over. And he was here, admitting to writing her romantic notes for the past year.

“I'm sorry, you must think this is ridiculous. You actually looked at me and I latched on and-” 

Rey didn't let him finish. Gathering her courage, she leaned over and palmed his cheek, the press of her lips on his effectively silencing him. He reciprocated almost immediately, leaning into her and wrapping one arm around her back, his hand gripping her waist. Rey melted into the contact, gasping at the feeling of his tongue against her bottom lip. He deepened the kiss, his hand tightening on her waist and his other coming up to bury itself in her hair. She chased his mouth when he finally pulled away, resting her forehead on his shoulder after they separated. His hands didn't leave her.

“Rey.” The rough, deep tone of his voice sent shivers down her spine, and she grabbed onto the front of his shirt. “How long?”

“Four years.” She spoke into his shoulder, unwilling to move, and felt his breath catch at her words. He pulled her tight against him.

“We wasted _so much time_.” 

“We're here now. I'm not going anywhere.”

…...........................

The day of graduation was hot and humid, and Rey was glad she'd chosen to wear a light sundress under her gown. She glanced over at Ben, noting the sweat running down his neck and into his collar. The idiot wore a suit. She unconsciously licked her lip. The ceremony was almost over, finally, and they would be free for the summer. Rey was looking forward to it. She was certain Ben was too. 

They met with Ben's parents and Rey's grandfather after the ceremony, where congratulations and hugs were exchanged and a wealth of photos were taken. It wasn't until they got back to Ben's house that he pulled Rey aside to give her a bouquet of red roses. The flowers brought tears to her eyes and she looked up to see him smiling softly at her.

“Ben.” The whispered name caused his smile to widen, and he gestured to the flowers. 

“Read the note.”

_Rey:_

_“But we loved with a love that was more than love -  
I and my Annabel Lee”_

_To my forever, my Annabel Lee._

_Ben_

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to add a little note regarding the art assignment Ben did since a few people have brought it up in the comments! I did not have a clear vision of what he did for that assignment when I wrote this, except that the reason he wouldn't let Rey see it was because it included some calligraphy work and he was scared of her figuring out who he was.   
> I loved the irony of this Ben spending the whole spring panicking at the situation he got himself into with the project and doing everything possible to keep it from backfiring on him, just for something as silly and trivial as dropping the note to be his undoing. So the art project was just another facet of that, not necessarily a super meaningful hidden piece. I imagine Rey finally saw whatever it was shortly after the story ends. 😊


End file.
